


Two slaves. What are the chances?

by thebestofjohnlockdrabblesandothers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, slavelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebestofjohnlockdrabblesandothers/pseuds/thebestofjohnlockdrabblesandothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are put into battle, one expected to kill the other. The results? Read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two slaves. What are the chances?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My friend Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+friend+Amy).



> Hello! This is a drabble so remember that when seeing how short it is. I have a tumblr (thebestofjohnlockdrabbles.tumblr.com) and I decided to post them here. Don't bother with mean comments, I won't care. Helpful/Good comments are welcome. ~Gabby

Sherlock knew very well there was no way he was going to survive this fight. And he knew that his Master knew this as well. He knew that he had been getting tired of him, not giving him anything he needed and just ignoring him. But couldn’t he just sell him instead of killing him by putting him in this brutal fight where only the best fought? He was going to get murdered! And when that happened no one would care. He was just a slave. He knew who he was fighting. John Watson. The best. His Master had paid very fine to make sure he fought the best. It seemed everyone knew that he- Sherlock- wouldn’t survive though. Heavy bets were on John, and he was almost sure that his Master was going to share with John’s Master the money they were going to earn from this. 

He was thrown into the match ring, John already having some cuts and bruises on him, but it looked like he didn’t even notice them. They circled, Sherlock’s heart pounding. John swung, hitting him right in the cheek and Sherlock yelped, trying to defend himself and doing rather poorly. 

Suddenly, John stopped. Did this slave not know how to fight? He wasn’t doing anything. He was just trying to protect his vitals. John looked at him, confused, and Sherlock finally looked up, up into John’s eyes and for a second, John smiled. 

"Well? Fight!" Someone barked from the crowd. "Kill ‘im!" Came another and John hesitated. 

"I can’t beat you, I know I can’t. The best in the world vs. the worst. Could you at least make it quick?" Sherlock asked, looking up at him, before closing his eyes. "I’m not going to fight him." John stood up, hearing the crowd gasp. Soon his Master showed up and he was being dragged off. "Ow, ow, M-Master…" John whined, and he was pulled off. "Why aren’t you fighting him? We have money on this! You have to beat him. If that means killing then you can do it. You’ve done it before." his Master said, and John shook his head. 

"Master, he doesn’t even know how to fight. And I’ve only done it to people who were about to kill me. I usually only knock out and you know that. It’s obvious his Master won’t take him out of here except in a bodybag!" John shouted and his Master grabbed him. "You have to do this." He said, and John shook his head. 

"I’ll knock him out if you promise promise you’ll buy him. Please? I’ll pay for him, giving him half my food, half of my everything so there’s barely any expense for him. And I’ll fight twice as much so that you can get more money, just please.” John looked up at him, nuzzling his nose against his Master’s neck. “Please, I’d do anything.” John murmured quietly and his Master sighed. “Fine, fine, John, but make it look real.” His Master took him back into the ring with such force he nearly fell onto the ground. 

"Going to finish me off now?" John heard Sherlock said, practically in the same position he was in before. It was like he had no energy. He looked pale. Had he eaten? John swung hard, and soon Sherlock was knocked out cold and John grinned, putting his arms up. He heard a growl from the crowd but he knew his Master would deal with it. 

Soon he was driving home with Master, the other slave’s head in his lap. “Sherlock? Sherlock, wake up.” John murmured, stroking his hair. “W-Where am I?” Sherlock jerked awake, looking around. 

"Home."


End file.
